Today I’d Really Like to Be Happy
(For Spanish translation click here)

Today I’d really like to be happy,

to be happy, my whole being burst into questions,

to throw open wildly the doors to the rooms of my flat, like a madman,

the self confidence of my physical trust laid bare,

only to see if anyone cares,

only to see if anyone is taking note of my spontaneous position,

to demand, I’m saying

why people inflict so much pain on my soul.

For I’d like, in substance, to be blissful,

to work without cane, a laic humility, without a black donkey.

To sense the sensation of the world,

the subjunctive songs,

the pencil that I lost in my cavity

and my beloved organs all crying.

Persuadable brother, comrade,

father through grandeur, mortal son,

friend and contender, immense document of Darwin:

at what hour will they come with my likeness?

Will they come with joy on their faces? With shrouded enjoyment?

Earlier than expected? Who knows, by what hassle?

At the mercy, comrade,

this man of mine in rejection and in observation, neighbor

in whose enormous neck seesaws

naturally, without wire, my hope . . .